It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment Turin Brakes realised their next record would be their tenth. But when they did, it surely hit with significance. In a 2000 interview, frontman Olly Knights predicted the band would release ten albums — and now, 25 years on from their debut, that vision has come true.
To mark this milestone, Turin Brakes returned to where it all began: London’s Konk Studios, the site of their acclaimed 2001 debut The Optimist LP. Back then, they didn’t fully understand how to harness the studio’s unique sonic potential. This time, they came prepared — enlisting producer Guy Massey to help them capture the room’s character and finally realise its promise. Spacehopper is the result: a warm, reflective, and adventurous album that nods to the past while sounding firmly rooted in the present.
Opening track “The Message” sets the tone beautifully. The distant sound of seagulls gives way to a breezy, acoustic-led pop number full of optimism and youthful longing. It’s light, melodic, and disarmingly sincere — qualities that carry across much of the album.
The title track “Spacehopper” continues in a similarly upbeat vein, blending spaghetti western twangs with shimmering synths. The lyrics — “she sees the world through books and screen / a healthy dose of make believe” — were inspired by a caravan holiday with Knights’ children, where an old space hopper sparked memories and imagination. That mix of nostalgic imagery and modern textures defines much of the album’s charm.
“Pays to Be Paranoid” stands out as one of the heavier moments. Echoing the guitar-driven punch of Oasis’s “Slide Away,” it pairs gritty solos with barbed social commentary: “In the age of fools / the science is cruel.” Elsewhere, the folky “Old Habits” offers sage wisdom — “learn to turn the other cheek / laugh next time you feel weak” — while “Silence and Sirens” delivers a gentle, Simon & Garfunkel-esque arrangement tinged with psychedelia. Its key takeaway? “When there’s nowhere to turn, don’t turn on yourself.”
“Horizon” provides the most direct musical callback to The Optimist LP, mirroring the spirit of “Underdog (Save Me)” but with a tighter, more infectious melodic hook. Tracks like “Almost” and “Lullaby” feel rooted in the Ether Song era, full of dreamy textures and tender reflection.
The psych-folk energy builds towards the end of the record, with the trippy “Today” leading into the expansive closer “What’s Underneath.” This six-and-a-half-minute finale begins with the haunting line: “I had this feeling when I was a kid / that nothing was real but I kept it well hid…” Inspired by a young Knights’ Truman Show-style existential musings, the song evolves into a glorious blend of bluesy licks and soaring guitar solos — a fittingly cosmic send-off.
Spacehopper isn’t just a return to form — it’s a realisation of unrealised potential. Rather than simply revisiting the analogue innocence of their early days, Turin Brakes use the past as a launchpad for something richer. With Spacehopper, they’ve completed the circle — not by repeating themselves, but by finally fulfilling a promise made in the very room where it all started.
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